


I Love You, Angel

by Siri_Tachi



Series: Dean's Season 14 Trauma [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Coda, Confessions, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s14e02 Gods and Monsters, Episode: s14e03 The Scar, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Grocery Shopping, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Michael Dean - Freeform, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Shopping, Whump, post michael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:00:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28762971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siri_Tachi/pseuds/Siri_Tachi
Summary: A coda/fix-it for the episodes Gods and Monsters and The Scar, plus a coda past what we see in those videos. The show set up some really great things and failed to deliver, so here we are.This does deal with Ptsd and anxiety, so I will add warnings at the beginning of each part!
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Dean's Season 14 Trauma [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2139360
Comments: 8
Kudos: 44





	1. Gods and Monsters

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: PTSD and a detailed anxiety attack

Dean opened his eyes. He was confused to find a strange, ornate pair of doors in front him. Glancing around he didn’t see anything, nor anyone. Deciding to test his luck with the doors, Dean gripped the handles and swung them open. He took a step forward and found that he was horribly dizzy, a splitting headache washing over the previous numbness. Dean could see a pillar close to him and he reached out, desperately needing something to ground and steady him. 

He was vaguely aware of footsteps approaching, and he looked up, blinking rapidly to bring the people into focus. “Dean?” the nearest person asked, sounding hopeful.

“Hey Sammy,” Dean replied hoarsely, before his legs could no longer hold him and he slid to the ground. Sam had grabbed his arm, steadying him, and suddenly, Dean is aware of everyone’s eyes on him. Taking the time to finally look up, he saw Bobby and his mom staring back at him, cautious hope written on their faces.

“Dean, is it… is it really you?”

Dean nodded, but instantly regretted it as more pain pierced his skull. He grimaced, “Yeah, its me.” 

“Are you okay?” Sam barely got the question out.

“No.” Dean growled, “Of course I’m not okay.”

“But, you got Michael to leave,” Sam trails off, unsure of whether it’s a statement, or a question.

The anger slips from Dean’s face and is replaced with pure fear and confusion. “No… I didn’t… I-I don’t…” 

“What?” Bobby asked.

Dean met the man’s gaze for a second before once again dropping his eyes to the floor, “He just… He just left.”

Sam’s brow furrowed, “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Dean whispers. Shaking his head, he continues louder, but no less scared, “I don’t know, okay? One minute I feel like I’m being ripped apart, and the next I’m staring at two wooden doors without a clue as to what’s just happened.”

Sam shares a glance with Mary and Bobby. None of them know what to make of Michael’s departure. “Okay. Come on, let’s get you home.” Sam wraps Dean’s arm around his shoulders and slowly stands.

Dean gasps, grabbing at his head with his free hand. His face scrunches from the searing pain, and he’s grateful that Sam hasn’t tried to move again.

Several moments of silence passed, and Sam waited for his brother to look like he was in at least a little less agony before asking, “Ready to keep going?”

Dean nodded tersely and started forward toward the door. He was surprised and angry at how shaky he felt, how uncoordinated his limbs were. After what felt like forever, they finally made it to the car. Dean paused, and ripped off the overcoat he had been wearing, before stepping into the car, leaving the clothing forgotten in the dirt.

* * *

Dean happily climbed the stairs into the war room. “I’m good, I am. Just really, really happy to be…” His voice trailed off. Upon taking in the scene before him, his stomach dropped, and his heart began to speed. “Home…” he finished quietly. Gaze darting across the multitude of people in the room.

“Yeah, there have been a few changes made, so, uh..” Sam explained.

Dean took a shaky breath and nodded in understanding. His attention turned to one of the hunters who had paused uncertainly a few steps away. “Yeah, not Michael anymore.” Dean explained. The hunter smiled, continuing about his business.

“Dean?”

His attention shifted to the door of the library. Jack hurried toward him, smiling in amazement. “Hey kid.”

“Is it really you?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah,” he whispered.

Jack looked toward Sam, who gave him final confirmation that yes, this was really Dean, before Jack wrapped his arms around the older man. Moving away, he realized that Castiel was now standing beside him.

“Dean.” Cas said softly. 

Dean smiled. “Hey Cas,” he replied, voice just as quiet. Cas didn’t wait a second longer before surging to pull Dean down into a hug. And for a minute, Dean let his constant façade slip, and let himself feel the pain, and the anxiety, and the overwhelming _relief._

Dean didn’t want to let go. Just wanted to let himself sink into the comfort that was Cas. But he pulled away. He couldn’t be that selfish, that needy. He had to be strong, like everyone expected, _needed_ , from him. Like he constantly demanded from himself.

“I’m sorry, I wanted to be there but we figured Michael would sense my presence..” Cas trailed off.

“Sam told me, ain’t no thing.” Dean assured. They stared at each other for a minute longer. “Well, I uh, I need a shower.” Dean headed for the door, pausing to spare one more look at Cas, assuring himself that he was here, he was back, this was _real._

* * *

Dean stood in front of the shower. He had been there so long that he was pretty sure that most of the hot water would be gone. He needed to be clean, to be rid of Michael’s stench, even though deep down he knew that a simple shower couldn’t fix that, yet he couldn’t bring himself to get in the water.

He was ashamed, really, thought it ridiculous he couldn’t step into the water. It was near impossible to drown in the shower after all. _That’s all it is,_ Dean thought, _ridiculous. C’mon, step into the friggin shower, you idiot._

Dean took a deep breath, though it did little to steady his racing heart, and stepped into the far end, where the water barely touched his ankles. _See, you were just overreacting. It’s fine,_ you’re _fine. Why can’t you just be fine-_ Dean took another step into the water and reached for his soap. He washed his body as fast as he could, but still being careful to keep his head out of the water. He almost succeeded, and would have if it hadn’t been for his shaking hands.

While trying to put the soap back on its little shelf, it fell from his hands and onto the floor. Without thinking, Dean acted on instinct and bent down to grab it. The moment the water covered his head, he froze, the air leaving his lungs. He fell to his knees gasping and clawing at his throat, as if that would help him breathe. Nothing made sense in his mind. He couldn’t think straight, though he had the vague idea that he was supposed to breath, or even just turn off the water. But all he could think was, _Help, help me please. Anybody. Sam! Cas! Please, help me._

Dean couldn’t stop choking, begging for air to fill his lungs, and then he actually was choking and water was caught in his throat and - _this is it, I’m going to die, this is it –_ but suddenly there was no longer any water pouring down on him. The cold air shocked his skin and finally he was able to take a breath. He felt a thick towel being draped over his huddled, shivering form, and being pulled into a comforting hug, and had the fleeting thought that, whoever this was, he should be embarrassed. He blocked that from his head though, instead figuring it smarter to focus on breathing, coughing out the last of the shower water.

Many minutes later, his heart had calmed enough and he shifted into a sitting position against the shower wall, pulling the towel closer, doing his best to cover himself with it. Thankfully though, another one was laid over his lap. Dean rested his head on his knees, shame coursing through his veins, causing his once cold skin to heat. Hesitantly, Dean brought his gaze to the man kneeling in front of him, who’s features were sketched with worry.

“Dean, are you alright?” Cas asked gently.

Dean just stared at him, conflicted between wanting to reassure him and lift one of Cas’ many burdens, though it likely wouldn’t do any good, and being honest for once in his miserable life, screaming at the top of his lungs that _No! I’m not alright, I’ll never_ be _alright. Not anymore._ So Dean settled with hesitantly shaking his head no, and waiting, afraid that he had done the wrong thing again, that he should have said he was okay, just so no one would worry, brush away Cas’ comfort, and hide even deeper inside of himself

“You don’t have to lie about how you feel Dean.” Cas assured, bringing his hand up to cup Dean’s face. “You don’t need to always be strong for everyone, ok?”

Ok,” Dean breathed a tear slipping down his face. Cas’ thumb softly swiped it away, and Dean _leaned_ _into_ the touch. And Dean _cursed_ himself for leaning into it. For needing and wanting it. He didn’t deserve it. Heck, he wasn’t even sure why anybody bothered to be around him. He was worthless after all, wasn’t he?

“Oh Dean,” Cas whispered, as though he could hear Dean’s thought, and, he supposed, it was very likely he could. Cas took a deep breath. “How about I grab you some pajamas?”

Dean nodded, “Thank you…”

Cas smiled softly and stood, “Of course, Dean.” 

* * *

Dean must have taken longer to dress than he thought, because by the time he stepped out of his ensuite bathroom, Cas was sitting on his bed with a cup of tea.

“It’s chamomile and lavender, with, of course, honey,” Cas explained shyly. “When I was human, I found it to be quite soothing… I thought it might help.”

Dean couldn’t help but smile at the sentiment as he sat on his bed. “Thanks, Cas,” he said, taking the mug and leaning back against the headboard. “And thanks for, you know,” Dean gestured exasperated at the bathroom door.

Cas nodded in understanding, moving around to sit next to him. “Do you know… why it happened?” He asked cautiously, not wanting to bring up anything Dean wasn’t ready to talk about.

Dean grimaced, nodding his head slightly. Instead of answering however, he sipped his tea and _wow, this is actually good. Who knew?_ They sat in silence for several minutes, Dean wrestling with whether he wanted or was ready to talk about it, knowing he should talk about it (and who better to confide in than Cas?), and the fact that holy crap, Cas was being patient with him and giving him the luxury of time, something he rarely, if ever had. “I uh,” Dean took a shaky breath, wishing he could have a break from the anxiety for five freaking minutes, “when I was, when Mi-…” Dean curled his fingers tighter around the mug, “while I was gone, I don’t remember most of what _he_ did - with me, because, because I was underwater, drowning. And that I remember. Clawing, fighting for air. And I thought I could make it out, but I-I-I couldn’t, I wasn’t strong enough. And now he’s gone, and he’s out there, putting an army of monsters together and he’s hurting people and it’s all on me. I said yes. It’s my fault.” While he was speaking, tears began to roll down his face. He sipped his tea, unsure of how Cas would react.

At first, Castiel wasn’t sure how to respond. Wasn’t sure that anything he could say even _would_ make Dean feel better. “Dean, this isn’t your fault, you can’t blame yourself for Michael’s actions. Sure, you may be his sword, you may have been his vessel, but only because you saw no other way. Michael was the one who didn’t keep his word and let you go after he killed Lucifer.”

“I should have known.” Dean burst, “He’s an archangel, clearly he wasn’t going to keep his word. I shouldn’t have been so stupid-”

“Dean!” Cas cut him off, “You are not stupid. No, maybe it wasn’t likely Michael was going to hold to your deal, but still his actions are his own. If you hadn’t said yes, Michael would have killed us and then found some other, albeit weaker, vessel to use. And then who would be here to try and stop him. You can’t put this on yourself. I mean, do you blame Nick for everything Lucifer did with him? Do you blame _Sam_ for what happened while Lucifer was possessing him?”

Dean wanted to argue, wanted to yell at Cas that this was nowhere near the same, but why wasn’t it? Because Nick had been grieving? Because Sam had no other choice? There was no solid excuse he could use, other than the fact that blaming himself for anything and everything was all he’d ever done. “I want to believe you Cas,” he said quietly, “I just – can’t.”

“Not yet, maybe,” Cas agreed, “but someday, you will. Me, Sam, Mary, even Jack, we’ll help you see it.” Dean remained silent, finishing the last of the tea and placing the mug on the bedside table. “I should let you rest,” Cas said, standing to leave.

Dean caught the sleeve of his trench coat. “No! Don’t leave,” Dean pleaded desperately, before seemingly realizing what he’d done, letting Cas go, eyes darting to the bed. _What the hell? Did you seriously just ask Cas to stay and watch over you? What, are you afraid of water_ and _the dark now? It was needy, childish. Why would you ever think that Cas would want to be around you. You’re a horrible person, all you’ve ever done is hurt him. He deserves so much more than you-_

“Ok,” Cas replied, and begun slipping of his shoes and outer layers.

Dean’s eyes shot up to stare at Cas. “Wh-what? Seriously? I mean, you’d actually do that? For _me_?”

Cas’s brow furrowed in confusion, like he didn’t understand why he _wouldn’t_ do that for him. “You mustn’t always think so little of yourself Dean. We love you, after all.”

If Dean thought he couldn’t be anymore baffled by the situation, he was definitely wrong. Cas telling him that he was loved? To actually hear that aloud? It was overwhelming. “Uh, I um…” Dean ran a hand over his face, quickly trying to form a coherent sentence, “I think I have a spare set of pajamas in the bottom drawer,” he told Cas, gesturing to his dresser. “They’d probably be more comfortable.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas replied, grabbing the green and black flannel pants and navy-blue shirt Dean had been referring to, and slipping into the bathroom. Dean stared at the now closed door, unsure what to make of the whole situation. And that’s how Cas found him a minute later: still staring, still confused. “Are you sure this is okay?” Cas asked before clarifying, “Are you sure you’re _comfortable_ with this?”

Dean looked up at him, “Yeah, yeah. I think – I mean, I’ve spent the last however many weeks, trapped and alone. It’s nice to have some company, especially someone who… cares, for me.”

Cas nodded, setting his bundle of clothes on the chair and moved toward the bed. Dean had pulled the covers back and laid down already. Cas laid next to him and tugged the covers over the two of them. “Goodnight Dean,”

“Night Cas,” Dean said, finally slipping into unconsciousness.


	2. The Scar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: PTSD and some internalized homophobia

Dean awoke to find Cas’s arm draped loosely across his stomach; Cas also wasn’t flush against his body. Apparently even sleeping – resting? Meditating? – whatever the heck the angel did while Dean was sleeping, he still kept a respectful distance, not wanting to ever make Dean uncomfortable.

Dean laid there, not wanting to get up and face the world _again_ , but rather, stay in the comforting arms of his angel, safe from the troubles of the world. _Wait, when did Cas become ‘his?’ You won’t ever have that, he won’t ever be ‘yours.’ How could you be so selfish and disgusting? What would Cas think if he knew how you felt about him? He would leave, just like everyone else so he wouldn’t have to be in your sickening presence ever again._ “Stop,” Dean whispered, curling in on himself and screwing his eyes shut, as if that would help end the voice in his head.

“Dean?” Cas mumbled. Abruptly pulling his arm away and sitting up, assuming he was the cause of Dean’s distress. “I’m sorry, I fell asleep and – I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

Dean rolled over, “No, Cas that wasn’t – you didn’t – I wasn’t talking to you.”

Cas tilted his head, “But there’s no one else in here. Who else would you have been talking to?”

Dean bit his lip, he didn’t _really_ want to go into detail about the constant berating voice in his mind, so he tried to put on a brave grin, though he knew it probably wasn’t too believable. “Doesn’t matter. You said you slept? I didn’t know angels could do that.”

Cas shrugged, “I didn’t before I became human. Ever since then, even though my grace is back, I found that it was easier. If I really wanted to, I could usually manage it. Especially if I haven’t for a long while or have been injured in a fight. Plus, being with you… well, it made me feel safe.”

Dean genuinely smiled now, happy that he could do something in return for his angel. Then he had a more serious thought, “So what now?” he asked, sitting up next to Cas.

“What do you mean?”

Dean sighed, “I mean, two people don’t typically share the same bed without something…” he wasn’t quite sure was to call it, “changing.”

“Oh,” Cas responded. There was a beat. And then two. Dean was about to break the silence, despite having no words, but Cas beat him to it. “Do you _want_ us to change?”

Dean looked away, blinking rapidly. _Why the heck are you even tearing up? Get control of yourself._ “Yes? No? I don’t know. I don’t want to jeopardize whatever we have now… I mean, isn’t it kind of ‘illegal’ for us to be together?” Dean laughed nervously.

Cas didn’t understand. “I don’t think we will be thrown in jail for sleeping in the same bed,” he didn’t miss the way Dean tensed at the last part. “Dean what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” Dean looked at him incredulously, “What’s _wrong_? I just slept in the same bed with another man. Dad would hate me for that. He would never want a f–, he wouldn’t want _that_ as a son.”

 _Oh_ , Castiel thought, _I see_. “Dean there is nothing wrong with being with another man. Not for you, not for anyone. Your father was abusive, you can’t believe anything he said.”

Dean looked at him nervously, searching for any lies. Except, he found none. “You would seriously be okay being with – _me_?” He asked, incredulous.

“It’s all I have wanted since I first saw you in hell.” Cas responded, as if it was the simplest thing in the world, as if it didn’t completely shatter everything Dean had been telling himself for years.

Dean slowly, oh so very slowly, started to wrap his head around the concept that he and Cas could be, would be, are? together. “Cas if you really want this – me – you’re going to have to put up with a lot of crap.”

“I already do,” Cas chuckled.

Dean shook his head in amusement, “This won’t be easy for me, not after everything my dad has… instilled into me,” he continued.

“I understand Dean. We’ll go at your pace; however slow you need.” Cas said, voice full of sincerity.

“Ok,” Dean breathed, a smile creeping over his face, “ok. Wow, this is – this is real.” Dean wrapped his arms around Cas, pulling him down onto the bed. “Which means, we can sleep for five more minutes.”

Cas laughed, “Oh Dean.”

* * *

Five more minutes turned into three when there was a knock at the door. “Dean?” Jack called through the door, “Sam says you can stop hiding from the people and come eat breakfast before he eats it all.”

Dean groaned, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, “Tell him if he eats it all he’ll be making a donut run.” Dean waited until he could no longer hear Jacks retreating footsteps. Moving to his dresser, he grabbed a pair of black sweatpants and a blue flannel to accompany his usual black t-shirt. “Cas…”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t… I’m not ready to let anybody know about us yet, ok? So, just keep it on the downlow. Not too much touchy-feely crap when we’re around the others y’know?” Dean said nervously.

“Are you ashamed of us?” Cas asked, his tone sad.

Dean turned to look Cas in the eyes, “No! Of course not, I just… I’m not comfortable with it yet, I guess.” Dean sighed, “I don’t know, I don’t even know if I’m comfortable with myself.” He laughed darkly, dragging his hand over his face, “It’s awesome what years of being fed lies will do to you huh?”

“No, it’s not awesome, and I’m sorry you had to bear through that.” Cas replied. “I did however, promise I would move at your pace. So, until you’re ready, I will keep the ‘touchy-feely crap’ to a minimum.” He finished, tone light.

Dean smirked to himself, “Thank you, Cas”

“Of course, Dean.”

* * *

As it turned out, Dean did not need a flannel.

He finished pulling his shirt over his head, when he noticed a mark on his bicep that hadn’t been there before. “What the…” Pulling his sleeve up, Dean realized it was a scar, a large one too. It looked like he had been stabbed by a double pronged spear. He poked his head out of the bathroom, only to find that Cas, and his bundle of clothes, had disappeared.

Dean wandered the hallways. “Sam? Cas?” He called, finding both of them already in the library.

Sam smiled as his older brother came in the room, “Hey Dean, how’d you sleep?”

Dean glanced at Cas for a split second before answering his brother. “Good, actually, better than I have in a long while. I suppose not sleeping for weeks had something to do with it. Listen, uh, there’s actually something I need to show you.” His voice taking a more serious tone.

“What is it?” Cas asked worriedly.

Dean pulled out a chair, before rolling up his sleeve, “I don’t know how I got it.”

Cas walked over to his side, gaze shifting between Dean and his brother, “Well, what could hurt Michael like that?”

“Whatever it was it must’ve been strong,” Sam answered, finally taking his eyes off of the mark.

Dean nodded, “Right. So, Cas, I’m gonna need you to, uh, get in my head y’know, do the whole Vulcan mind melt thing because if I can’t remember what happened, I need you to drag it out of me okay?”

“W-Wait a second, are you sure about this?” Sam asked doubtfully.

“Yeah, I can handle it.” he assured.

“Dean...”

“Cas, c’mon. Hit me,” Dean insisted. He felt Cas’s hands hesitantly press onto his head. A tingly feeling washed over him, before the memories, ones he didn’t even know of, came flooding through his mind. Dean tried to concentrate through the mind melting pain, searching for the weapon that had caused this harm to Michael. Suddenly the tingly feeling stopped.

“Anything,” Sam asked tentatively.

Cas sighed, moving one of his hands down to rest on the scar. The feeling started up again except this time it was accompanied by the memory of him – Michael – being stabbed, and white, hot pain coursing from his arm. Cas pulled his hands away abruptly, and Dean gasped, as the pain oh so slowly subsided, replaced by a dull ache in his head.

“Dean, who was that?”

* * *

“You’re in a hurry” Sam commented, watching as the speedometer rose.

“Shouldn’t I be? If you’re worried about the girl, Cas has got it handled” Dean replied.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Well, then, what’s the problem.” He snapped.

“Dean, we still have no idea why Michael let you go, or where he is now, or what he wants-”

“Yeah, or who his favorite spice girl is,” Dean sassed.

Sam glared at him, “C’mon man, this isn’t a joke. Something huge happened and you won’t even really talk about. But this whole Michael thing, we need to deal with it.”

“Okay, I’m literally going 80 to deal with it. How can I be running away from something when I’m racing toward it.”

“I don’t know, kind of your thing,” Sam remarked.

“Ok,” Dean said indignantly.

“Okay, look, I’m just saying, you said you let Michael in and then bang – you’re back in a blink. But for me, you were gone – for _weeks_. I didn’t know if you were alive, I…” Sam took a deep breath, “I just need you to talk to me, to slow down, so I can catch up.”

Sam waited patiently, but the response he got only disappointed him. “Call Jody,” Dean finally said, “let her know we’re almost there.”

* * *

Dean sat at the kitchen table, an empty glass of whiskey next to him. It was late, and he knew he should sleep, but his thoughts wouldn’t keep quiet. While pouring himself more alcohol, Sam appeared in the doorway. “Dude why are you still up? It’s the middle of the night,” Sam asked, grabbing a water glass from the cabinet.

Dean shrugged, “I put us all in danger today, stupid danger.”

“Dean-”

“You were right. I didn’t want to look at it, what Michael used me for, just wanted to race ahead, skip to the end of the story y’know where I get the weapon and take out the bad guy… the part where I _kill_ Michael.”

“Yeah, I know,” Sam agreed, sitting across from his brother.

“You know, I said yes to him because I thought… it was stupid, _I_ was stupid.”

“Dean you did what you had to do,” Sam tried.

Dean shook his head absently. “And It wasn’t a blink, being possessed. I made it sound like that, but it wasn’t. While Michael did – _whatever_ – with me, he uh, he kept me locked away… underwater.” Dean ran his hand over his face, blinking away tears. _Why do I even have to do this?_ “I was drowning – the whole time, Sammy. I felt every second, fighting for air, and I thought – I thought I could make it out but… I couldn’t, I wasn’t strong enough.” Dean took a shuddering breath, downing the whiskey in his cup. “Sam he’s out there, amassing an _army,_ a-and all the people he’s hurt? _Will_ hurt?” Dean’s eyes closed, keeping in his tears, “that’s on me.” He finished in a whisper. Before his brother could reply, Dean stood, leaving his glass on the table and hurrying out of the kitchen with a soft, “Night, Sammy.”


	3. Coda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Nightmares and a detailed anxiety attack.

**“You’re just like him. Threats, violence, anything to get what you want.”**

_Dean slammed the chair Kaia sat in against the wall. “Where is it?” he demanded, but Kaia remained infuriatingly silent. “I said where is it?” Dean screamed. Balling his fist, he punched her across the face. Once. Twice. Three times._

_“Where-” an uppercut to the jaw, “is-” a blow to her left temple, “it?” a punch straight to the nose, ending with a sickening crunch. He threw Kaia, chair and all toward the opposite wall, the chair splintering into pieces. Dean stormed over to her, picking her up by the neck and slamming her against the wall._

**“I am nothing like him.”**

_“You have one last chance to tell me before I really start to have fun.” Dean threatened._

_Kaia shook her head stubbornly, “I will_ never _give it to you.”_

_A darkness that wasn’t there before clouded over Dean’s eyes. Keeping a firm hand wrapped around her neck, he pulled a pocket knife from his pocket, flicking it open. “Then I’ll take it from you.” He dragged the knife over her forehead, blood slowly starting to drip into her eye. A few more cuts to her face before he carved a long, deep slit down the length of her arm, savoring her screams._

**“Yes, you are, you always have been.”**

“No!” Dean flinched violently, gasping for air. Scrambling at his bedside table he finally found the light and flipped it on. His door opened suddenly, and he feared at first it would be Sam. Relief washed over him when he saw that it was Cas, who immediately shut the door behind him and sat on Dean’s bed. Dean instantly curled into his side, only wanting – needing – comfort. He hadn’t realized how bad he had been shaking until Cas grasped one of his hands, rubbing slow, gentle circles. 

“Shh,” Cas soothed, “it’s okay, you’re here now, I’m here now.”

Dean trembled, as silent sobs overcame him. Maybe he hadn’t actually hurt Kaia, hadn’t been that violent with her, but wasn’t there a part of him that had wanted to? When he realized she would never give them the spear – the one thing they knew could hurt Michael. Hadn’t he wanted to revert back to everything he had learned in hell, done on _other_ people, because in his mind, torture would always get him answers?

“Do you want to talk about him?” Cas whispered, pulling Dean closer.

Dean took a shaky breath, shifting to hold Cas’s hand. “Yesterday,” he breathed, “we went to find Kaia – dark Kaia,” he clarified, “a-and we needed her spear, to use against Michael,” Dean paused, crying more. “But she – she wouldn’t give it to us, and I just, I got so angry… _violent_. One weapon we know will work and some teenage girl won’t give it to us…”

“So it wasn’t a dream, but rather a memory?” Cas questioned.

Dean shook his head. “My dream was so much worse, Cas. I hurt her, I _tortured_ her,” he finished, disgusted with himself.

“Dean, I _know_ you would never again hurt someone like that. You’ve changed, you have to believe that,” Cas said.

Dean remained silent. He wasn’t sure if he _could_ believe Cas, not after Kaia. “What time is it?” he asked

“6:43 a.m.”

“Well then, up an’ at ‘em.” Dean reluctantly pulled himself away from Cas, turning away to compose himself.

Cas sighed, “Fine. I’ll be in the library if you need me.”

Dean watched as Cas left the room, feeling as if he had disappointed him, _again._ Dean sighed, _All you’ve ever done is disappoint him. Him and Sam and Mom and Dad and Charlie and every other freaking person you’ve ever met. No wonder no one stays around, no wonder no one loves, how could they? Who would want to stay around with a screw up like you-_ Dean shook his head, wanting so desperately to stop the thoughts, and changed out of his pajamas. His hand reached out to grab the door handle, but he froze. The horror from his nightmare had faded and was instead replaced by gnawing anxiety. His stomach did flips over itself and he slid to the ground. Dean ran his nails over his palms again and again, needing something to slow his heart and loosen his throat so he could breathe. Frustrated tears slipped down his cheeks, making the air come in even harder gasps, his head twitching to one side. Dean continued to cry and scratch at his hands until the attack had faded. Even still, when he finally had the courage to try and leave his room again, his shaking hands returned. Cracking open the door, he pushed his head out, and upon seeing no one in the hallway, he slipped out, shutting the door behind him.

Taking care to avoid people, even if it meant using roundabout ways, Dean made his way to the library. True to his word, Cas was there, sitting in a plush leather chair in a secluded corner and reading a book. Quietly, Dean walked over and settled down on the floor, resting his head on Cas’s knee.

“Dean?” Cas asked concernedly, “What’s wrong, what happened.”

Dean reached up and limply held Cas’s hand. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“What do you have to be sorry for?” Cas asked, careful to be quiet and not attract anyone’s attention.

Dean shrugged, “Disappointing you, being so needy and weak, screwing up with Michael… how far back you wanna go?”

“Dean, first of all, you have not disappointed me, you have always been there when I needed you, no matter was going on at the time. Second, how could you think yourself weak? After all you’ve been through, and yet you’re still here, still fighting, still _living_? That’s incredibly strong. Third, you need to stop blaming yourself for Michael. I know it will take time, but you aren’t responsible for his cruelness. And finally, the past, Dean? That’s, well, that’s in the past. Whatever problems we may have had, they don’t matter anymore.”

Dean’s lip quivered, but he was determined not to cry anymore today. “Thank you,” he breathed. In response, Cas gently ran his fingers through Dean’s hair

“Is this ok?” Cas asked, knowing how important consent was to Dean after everything he had been through.

“Absolutely,” Dean affirmed, “It’s alright that my head’s on your leg, yeah?” Consent went both ways, after all

“Of course, Dean.” And that’s how they sat for however long, until Cas had to break the silence.

“Sam is approaching,” he warned, remembering Dean’s want to keep their relationship a secret for now. Judging by how content Dean had seemed, Castiel was surprised by how fast Dean shot up, looking remarkably – normal.

Sam had just crossed the threshold of the door by the time Dean assumed his regular composure. “Dean, hey, wow you’re up,” He sounded surprised, which wasn’t unreasonable.

“What did you expect, for me to sleep until the cows came home? I’m still a hunter, Sammy,” Dean joked.

Sam smiled, “Well, glad to see you up. What were you and Cas talking about?” For a fraction of a second, Sam thought he saw a flash of panic on Dean’s face.

“Nothing, just uh, asking where you were.” Dean lied.

“Uh-huh,” Sam narrowed his eyes, like he wasn’t sure if he believed it. Of course, the alternative was Dean probably discussing something about Michael, so he wasn’t about to pry for answers. “Well listen, all the cases that have popped up are being covered, but we do need a supply run. I should stay here in case I’m needed, but I’ll make a list if you’d like to go?”

Dean nodded his head, desperate for something to keep him busy and away from the now always crowded bunker. “I’ll get my keys.”

* * *

“Don’t forget the gluten free cheerios.”

Dean turned to look at Cas. “What?” His voice came out stressed and exasperated. They had, after all, been there for an hour and were only halfway through their list. Partly because Walmart was extra crowded on Saturdays, partly because it was Walmart, but mostly because Dean would see the name of an item on the list and immediately go there, rather than follow it top to bottom. Sam had gotten good at listing the items needed in order after taking so many trips.

Cas looked up with a comforting smile, moving to where Dean was and plucking a box from the shelf, “Here.” He placed the box in the cart, along with the two Dean was holding. “You need to calm down, babe, you look like your about to faint.” Cas rubbed up and down Dean’s arms, who was trying to take deep breaths. After a few minutes, Cas held Dean’s hand, “Come on, we’ll be out of here in no time.”

This time, Cas led Dean, and, true to his word, they were at the end of there list, standing in front of the milk at the back of the store. Cas pulled three gallons from the refrigerator, “Hey can you grab Sam’s milk?”

Dean raised his eyebrows, “ _Sam’s_ milk? He has his own _special_ milk? Who does he think he is?”

Cas grinned, “Lactose intolerant, apparently. He likes the sweetened coconut one."

Dean rolled his eyes but nevertheless grabbed his brother’s weird healthy milk. _How do you even milk a coconut?_

“Oh! I almost forgot,” Cas turned around, “Chocolate milk.” He said, choosing the full gallon.

“What do we need chocolate milk for?” Dean asked.

“Jack. It’s practically his favorite thing to drink. Not exactly the healthiest, but at least he still drinks plenty of water,” Cas explained.

A fond smile came over Dean’s face, “You’re a good dad to him, you know that right?”

Hope and pride bloomed in Cas’s eyes, “You really think so?”

“Absolutely.” He placed a chaste kiss to Cas’s forehead, “Now c’mon, I’ve had enough Walmart for a month.” Cas chuckled, happily following Dean as he practically plowed people over to get to the checkouts. An isle to their left, however, stopped him short, almost causing Cas to run into him.

“Dean?” Cas questioned.

Dean grabbed something from the men’s clothing rack and turned around to show Cas. In his hands he held a yellow hoodie with the words _Happy Honey Bee_ in swirly black ink. “It’s perfect for you.”

“Dean, I do not need to change my clothes,” Cas reminded him.

Dean pouted, “But it will look so cute on you.”

Cas pursed his lips but quickly it turned into a smile, he was happy to see Dean so comfortable with their relationship. He shook his head amusedly, “Alright. Let’s get it.”


	4. Being Honest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Just some general anxiety I believe

Something had changed with Dean since he came back from Michael. Well, _obviously,_ something had changed, but it wasn’t just the aftermath of possession, Sam noticed. It was something else, something he just _couldn’t_ lay a finger on. So he wasn’t surprised when he walked into the kitchen – at 6:15 a.m., mind you, Dean was always in there early, or late, to avoid the crowd – and found Dean making pancakes. What did surprise, and concern him, however, was Dean’s tense, hunched over posture, and the slight tremor in his voice when he greeted him with a quiet, “Hey Sammy."

“Morning,” Sam answered, “What’s up?” Another warning flag went up in Sam’s head when his brother took near a minute to respond, and even more flags from the response he received. 

“Umm, listen… I- I need to… _talk_ to you.” Dean stuttered, his hands were now shaking as he mixed the batter, and his head would frequently spasm to the side.

“Sure. You can tell me anything Dean, you know that right?” Sam leaned on the counter, leaving the whole island between them as space. 

Dean barely nodded his head, greasing the pan on the stove. “I’m uh, I know you won’t… for a while now – crap. I can’t do this.” Dean flicked off the burner and practically ran from the room. Sam wasn’t sure what to do, so he stayed, poured himself a cup of coffee, and hoped Dean would return.

Dean however, sped down the hall to where Cas lingered. The angel’s arms immediately engulfed him. “I can’t – I can’t do it Cas. He’s gonna hate me… he’ll never want me as his brother–”

“Dean! Stop.” Cas interrupted, rubbing Dean’s neck soothingly, “Sam will never – could never – hate you. I mean, does he hate Charlie or Claire? You are his _brother_ and he will accept you no matter what. I am sure of it.” Cas pulled away to look him in the eyes, “You can do this, Dean. I know you can.”

Dean took several deep breaths, “Okay.. okay… You’re sure?”

Cas smiled softly, “Yes, I’m sure. Now get in there and scream to the heavens that ‘Dean Winchester is bisexual!’”

Dean chuckled, “You’re a dork.”

“Mm, maybe, but I’m your dork.” A minute passed. “Dean, you’re still here.”

“I know…” Turning on his heels, Dean visibly steeled himself, and headed for the kitchen. Peaking inside he saw Sammy still there, sitting at the table sipping a cup of coffee. “Hey…” he started, feeling awkward after he ran out from the conversation.

But Sam just turned around and smiled, as if that was the first time he had greeted Dean that morning, “Hey. Are you okay?”

Dean nodded, pouring himself a cup of coffee before leaning against the island facing Sam. “Sorry about running out and all that.”

Sam shrugged, “Doesn’t matter. What was it that you wanted to tell me?” He prompted.

“I – I know you won’t be mad,” Dean started hesitantly, “And I hope you won’t judge me…” _Or scream at me or hit me like Dad did,_ “but, uh, but recently I’ve realized something about how I feel and…” Dean looked down, closing his eyes, “I’m bi.”

Dean bit his lip, panic creeping up when Sam wasn’t responding. Suddenly, strong arms were wrapped around him, “Dean. I am so _freaking proud_ of you.” He pulled back, clapping Dean on his shoulder. “This is awesome, man!”

A smile grew on Dean’s face, “Yeah, it is isn’t it? Since I’ve started a roll of telling you secrets, uh… Me and Cas are… dating.” He finished nervously.

Relief flooded over Sam, “Hallelujah.”

“Excuse me?”

“Dude, I’ve been watching you two skirt around each other for _years_.”

Dean spluttered, “What? No – I mean.. seriously?"

Sam’s eyes grew wide, “Oh yeah. No offense or anything, but I think you were the _last_ person to know you were bisexual.”

Dean rolled his eyes, but he still couldn’t shake his grin, “Whatever Sammy.”

“So we can stop hiding now?” Cas leaned in the doorway, quietly observing.

“Yes, angel, we can.” Dean affirmed.

“Good,” Cas said, placing a kiss on Dean’s forehead before walking behind the counter, “because we need to get a move on these pancakes.”

“Mm, yes please,” Dean circled to stand practically on top of Cas, arm wrapped protectively around his waist and stole a chocolate chip from the bowl on the counter. Dean heard Sam walk off, probably to go find Jack, so he tucked his head on Cas’s shoulder and whispered softly, “I love you, angel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought of it, and thanks so much for reading!!


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